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by Afoxymous



Series: Miracles [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Adjacent for Episode IV: A New Hope, F/M, Fix-It, Pining, Rebelcaptain - Freeform, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-17 17:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9334601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Afoxymous/pseuds/Afoxymous
Summary: After the escape from Scarif and safe return to Yavin IV, Jyn Erso slept for twenty hours.Within those twenty hours, the world fell apart.





	1. Mad World

They had barely made it back to base alive.  

 

Bodhi had stayed conscious long enough to take them out of their sudden jump through hyperspace, realize that they hadn’t collided with anything or ended up in the middle of an Imperial fleet, and breathe a sigh of relief.  After that, Jyn had to quickly catch him by the shoulders before he collapsed onto the controls.  Thankfully, Cassian was a decent enough pilot (even without K-2SO’s assistance) to get them routed to Yavin IV and announce their arrival to the rebels, but he was also slowly succumbing to his injuries.  He ended up having to talk Jyn through the landing sequence, too weak to hold himself up to reach the console.  Her hands had trembled violently as she landed them with a series of rough and uncoordinated movements. 

 

“We made it,” Jyn breathed, once the ship stilled beneath her.  “Cassian, we--” 

 

Her words caught in her throat when she turned to him.  He had gone unnaturally pale and was clearly fighting to stay awake, since his eyes kept rolling back into his head.  Jyn grabbed his hand, fear slicing through her.  She couldn’t lose him now, not after escaping Scarif.  She glanced out the cockpit window to see a group of medics, led by General Draven, running towards the ship and she squeezed his fingers.

 

“Hold on, okay? You have to hold on,” she told him.  She felt the slightest bit of pressure on her hand in return, saw the softness of his eyes, the corner of his mouth quirk upwards for a moment.  It gave her the courage she needed to leave him and open the cargo doors.

 

The medics worked quickly, carefully placing the still-unconscious Bodhi on a stretcher and rushing him out of the ship and onto a transport to the medbay.  Cassian was next, though he fought momentarily to get up on his own when he noticed Draven’s presence.

 

“Sir--” he began, before his legs buckled underneath him.  

 

If the medics hadn’t been next to him already, he would’ve collapsed to the floor.  They forced him onto a stretcher as Jyn watched, her heart in her throat.  As he passed Draven, he reached out and grabbed the general’s arm.

 

“The plans.  Did they make it through? Did the fleet receive our transmission?” he demanded, each word laced with desperation.  The medics stopped pushing the stretcher as the captain stared at his superior officer.  

 

Jyn held her breath, watching the general carefully.  The man paused, an unreadable expression on his face.

 

_ Please,  _ Jyn thought _.  Say it wasn’t for nothing.  _

 

“Yes, Captain,” Draven replied.  “Admiral Raddus received your transmission. Your mission was a success.”

 

Jyn’s heart started beating again.  Cassian closed his eyes and released Draven’s arm, his body slumping in relief.  The medics resumed pushing the stretcher off of the ship.

 

Then Cassian called out for Jyn, his voice no more than an anxious rasp.  The swooping feeling in her chest nearly took her breath away, but she stifled it, stepped in between the medics and took his hand.

 

“I’m here,” she told him.  _ I’m with you _ . His features relaxed at her touch and he finally fell into unconsciousness.

 

She didn’t let go of his hand until she was led slowly out of the surgical area by a couple of nurses while the droids started their work on Cassian’s ribs.  Jyn’s fingers tingled from the loss-- she hadn’t wanted to abandon him at all, but she didn’t want to get in the way of Cassian’s recovery, either.  So she sat quietly on the floor just outside of surgical, leaning against the wall and staring down at her fingers.  A couple of nurses tended to her as she waited, treating the minor cuts and bruises that she had gained from her time on Scarif.  Her hands had suffered the most damage from her climb up the data tower and her near-fall from the satellite platform.  The nurses were in the middle of wrapping them when a rebel soldier arrived to take Jyn to her temporary lodgings, by order of Mon Mothma.

 

“I’m not leaving,” Jyn immediately protested.  She looked up at the door separating her from Cassian. She was already too far away from him.

 

“You are showing signs of exhaustion, Sergeant Erso.  You should sleep.  The captain will be in surgery and recovery until at least the morning, and Ensign Rook will be spending the night in a bacta tank for his burns.  We can have someone retrieve you if either of them wake or anything changes,” one of the nurses told her.  

 

_ I can’t leave him. I can’t leave Bodhi.  If I leave them they could disappear and I can’t-- I can’t-- _ With panic rising within her, Jyn started shaking her head in refusal. The soldier cleared his throat and gave her a weary look.

 

“I’ve been given authority to order a dose of Tranqarest if need be, Sergeant Erso. I truly hope that doesn’t become necessary,” he said, averting his eyes uncomfortably.  Jyn glared at him, unable to muster up the energy for physical violence.  Instead, she slowly got to her feet, growling at the nurses when they went to assist her.

 

“Fine,” she spat at the soldier, who looked quite relieved.  “Let’s go.”  Then she turned to the nurse who had spoken before.

 

“If anything changes, ANYTHING, I want to know immediately.”  She knew that she had no business giving orders, sergeant or otherwise, but the nurse nodded anyway.  She gave one last glance at the door to the surgical area.   _ Please come back to me,  _ she pleaded, silently.   _ Don’t go where I can’t follow you _ .  She felt her heart pull at her with each step that took her further away.  

 

The soldier led her quickly through the quiet and spotless base until they stood in front of an unmarked door in a plain hallway filled with dozens of other unmarked doors.  He punched a code into the access panel and the door opened. Then he moved to the side and stood at attention.  

 

Jyn peered past him into the room.  _  More like closet _ , she amended to herself, but she’d had much worse lodgings.  A single bunk sat just inside, with a small white pillow and folded blue blanket placed on top of it.  There was barely room to turn around between it and the door.  There was a tall, thin locker at the end of the bed, and another door at the head of it.  Jyn gave the soldier a questioning look.  

 

“Refresher,” he replied.  “Sonic, not water.”  She nodded.  

 

The solder cleared his throat. “Unless you’re in need of something else, Sergeant, I’ll take my leave,” he said, stiffly.  Jyn merely nodded again.  She wasn’t about to thank him.  This had been an order, not a generosity.  She stepped into the room and the door closed behind her, leaving her in darkness.

 

It washed over her, heavy and oppressive.  If the past few days hadn’t been what they had been, she would’ve have trouble getting to sleep.  But the all the pain, loss , and fear she had experienced was finally catching up to her.  And since sleeping was preferable to thinking about her father’s hands on her face, or the way that Baze had called her “little sister”, or the green light from the beam of the Death Star, or Cassian’s face as Kay said good-bye, or--

 

Jyn dropped onto the bed, immediately pulling off her boots and wincing at the pain it caused her hands.  She then peeled off her clothes, needing to be free of the smell of Scarif, and tossed them into the refresher, hoping they’d be clean when she woke.  Then she grabbed the blue blanket and pulled it around herself, curling into the fetal position.  She could feel sleep claiming her quicker than she could control, and she welcomed it.  

 

Because even though she had spent the majority of her life on her own and thought she had gotten used to it, in that tiny, bare room with no windows, far away from the two remaining people that hadn’t left her, Jyn had never felt more alone.

 

* * *

 

She slept for twenty hours straight.

 

Within those twenty hours, there were both dreams and nightmares.  The nightmares were expected.  She flinched, flailed, and gasped through the visions of blaster fire, explosions, waves of earth that threatened to swallow her whole, and too many lifeless bodies.  But Jyn was used to nightmares.

 

It was the dreams that frightened her more.  Those brought dark eyes in the flashing lights of an elevator.  A figure emerging from the mist, back from the dead.  An arm around her shoulders.  A flustered moment in a cockpit.  And words.  

  
_ “Welcome home.” _

 

_ “Your father would’ve been proud of you, Jyn.”   _

 

When she finally woke, Mon Mothma was sitting quietly on the edge the bed, watching her.  Jyn sat up quickly, blinking.  Pain radiated through her body-- it wasn’t excruciating, but the soreness that came after battle.

 

“What is it?” she asked, her voice rough from sleep.  “Bodhi? Cass--”

 

“They’re fine.  Both Captain Cassian and Ensign Rook are still in recovery,” the older woman replied softly, before Jyn could get too worked up.  “I apologize for startling you.”  

 

Jyn breathed deeply in relief.  She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, then rubbed her hand over her face.  She had forgotten about the bandages, though, and wrinkled her nose at the scratchy feeling of the gauze.  How long had she been asleep?  Her sense of time had been knocked out of balance.  Then she looked up at the older woman, who was still watching her.  She felt her stomach drop when she noticed her eyes.  They were tired and full of apologies: the eyes of woman who had bad news to deliver.

 

“Senator?” Jyn asked, feeling her chest clenching with anxiety.  

 

“General Draven told me that he relayed the news of the success of your mission,” the woman replied.  

 

Jyn nodded.  

 

“The Rebellion owes you a great debt, Jyn.  You and your team risked your lives to fight the Empire, and your efforts yielded the greatest advantage we’ve ever had over them.  The destruction of the Death Star would’ve been an incredible victory for the Alliance.”

 

Jyn’s heart stopped.   _ No. _

 

“‘Would’ve been’,” she repeated, terror creeping up her spine.

 

Mon Mothma placed her hand gently on top of Jyn’s.  The fear grew within her.

 

“General Draven was correct-- the transmission of the Death Star schematics was successful.  The plans were received by Admiral Raddus, aboard the  _ Profundity. _  Unfortunately, his vessel was immediately attacked and boarded by Imperial forces.  Darth Vader was among them.  From what I understand, the plans were safely transferred to Princess Leia Organa, who was able to escape aboard another ship.  

 

"However, we received word early this morning that Vader intercepted the Princess at Tattooine, and has taken her prisoner.  Since we did not receive any information to prove otherwise, I’m afraid that we have to believe that the plans are back in the hands of the Empire.”  

 

The senator paused.  

 

“I’m so sorry, Jyn.”

 

Jyn couldn’t breathe.  She couldn’t move.  There a faint roaring in her ears, and she felt like her heart had either stopped completely or was beating so fast that it had become a steady hum.  Had the floor dropped out beneath her? She couldn’t be sure.  But what did it matter?

 

All of it was for nothing.  The loss of Chirrut, Baze, Kay, all of the rebel soldiers that had followed her to Scarif, blindly believing in  _ her  _ cause.   _ Her _ gamble.  Saw, her father… her  _ father _ .  She had failed him after all.  

 

_ Save the rebellion, save the dream.   _

 

She hadn’t been able to do either, and now she would watch them both burn in the green glow of the Death Star’s laser.  She remembered Cassian’s face painted in emerald, watching from the cockpit as Scarif crumbled.  All she had done was draw out their eventual demise.  It was coming for them now, pulling them in like a tractor beam.  There was no escaping it.

 

What a fool she had been, to finally look up and fight back against the boot that was pressing down against the whole of the galaxy.  She should’ve known she would’ve ended up crushed underneath it.  

 

She became vaguely aware of Mon Mothma speaking.  Her mind was spinning away from her, but she fought to pay attention.

 

“... our location.  If Vader is successful, we believe that there is a valid threat of the Empire using the Death Star to destroy the base.  With that said, we’ve started making preparations for evacuation.  We have another base that we can…”

 

So the Death Star was following her to Yavin.  She was its magnet, leaving only death and destruction in her wake. She realized now, that it had followed her for her entire life.  It first took her mother, then her father, then her freedom, then Saw and Jedha, then everyone on Scarif.  It was never going to stop following her.  She was tied to her father’s creation for the rest of her days.  Jyn felt sick.  She was a danger to the Rebellion, to the survivors, to Bodhi and Cassian.  She would kill them all.  

 

_ Not this time. _

 

She had gotten up while Mon Mothma was still talking, grabbing her clothes out of the refresher.  They were clean once more, and Jyn was grateful-- if she had smelled the remnants of Scarif or, the Force forbid, Cassian, she might’ve been sick.  She dressed quickly, then turned to the senator.

 

“I want to leave, immediately,” Jyn told her, her eyes hard.

 

The older woman was silent for a moment.

 

“And go where, Sergeant?” she asked.  The change of title didn’t go unnoticed.

 

“I don’t know.  Anywhere.  Away from here,” Jyn snapped.  She took a step closer to the woman, her hands shaking and her eyes full of violent promises.  “And I want your word that both Bodhi and Cassian will be evacuated safely to the new base.  I want them on the first ship out of here.”

 

A pause.

 

“I don’t think I can guarantee the safety of anyone in the galaxy, not with the power that the Empire currently holds.  But we will do our best,” Mon Mothma replied, slowly.

 

Jyn nodded at her.

 

“As for your other request, I will send word to the commanding officer of the flight deck to find you transport off of Yavin.  You can meet him out on the apron.”

 

“You’re letting me leave?” Jyn asked, a little surprised.

 

Mon Mothma looked up at her from her seated position on the bed.  Her eyes were like stone.

 

“Would you stay if I commanded it?” she asked.  

 

Both of them knew the answer.  Jyn turned to leave, opening the door and taking a step out into the hallway.  

 

“May the Force be with you, Jyn Erso.”  

 

She halted momentarily at the senator’s words.  Then she stepped out into the hallway and started towards the medbay.  

  
She didn’t have much time.

* * *

 

Alderaan was gone.

The news had spread through the base like wildfire, leaving a general sense of shock and despair behind it.  The Empire had destroyed a planet.  The Death Star plans were lost.  Bail Organa, perhaps the true father and founder of the Rebellion, was dead.  There was no question that the rebel base would be the Death Star’s next target.  But there was no way to know if the princess had revealed their location.  If she hadn’t, surely it was only a matter of time.

Jyn had been meeting with the deck officer, negotiating her passage on an RM-09 shuttle headed to Bespin later that day, when she overheard the news of Alderaan’s destruction.  It brought her to her knees, squeezing her lungs of all air and nearly making her pass out completely.  There had been no evacuation, no time for anyone to escape.  It was Jedha all over again, except on an infinitely grander scale.  An entire planet, an entire population, gone in an instant. 

Her hand trembled where it lay, pressed against the glass of the bacta tank.  She looked up at Bodhi, floating motionlessly in the liquid.  He was still unconscious, but his skin had definitely started to heal.  The nurses had told her that they expected him to wake the following day, after his evacuation to the new base.  He would be wrapped in bacta bandages during the trip, then would be returned to a tank upon arrival.

But he’d survive, her brave pilot.  He’d survive Jyn, and the trail of death she left behind her.  At least there was that.

Leaving was becoming more difficult than she had imagined.  She had never been the one to do it before; she was always just the one left behind.  Her heart ached at not being able to say goodbye to Bodhi, to thank him for rescuing her, to call him a hero.  She had a feeling he needed to hear it, over and over again until it started to chip away at the doubt within him.  It was strange that she knew that much about him, but not what his home planet was.  She didn’t know if he had siblings or if his parents still lived.  But now, she could only hope that Cassian would be the one to call him a hero, to learn all his stories.  They could take care of each other, in her absence.

  
The captain’s name made her heart still in her chest.  She hadn’t seen him yet.  She knew leaving him would be hardest (though she didn’t want to think about why) and so she kept that for last.  Even now, she could feel his presence in the next room over tugging at her.  The nurses had told her that he, too, remained asleep. She was grateful for this, because she wouldn’t have to look in the same eyes from the elevator on Scarif.  The same eyes that blazed through her after saving her from the man in white.  The same eyes that she knew she would see in her dreams for the rest of her life.  

But it was time for  _ her _ to save  _ him _ .  And saving him meant leaving him.  

To her great relief, Mon Mothma seemed to be keeping her promise: both Bodhi and Cassian were due to leave on the next transport off the base, within the next hour.  The nurses were preparing for the transfer at that moment, packing supplies and sending them to the ship ahead of them.  Time was running out.

Jyn pressed her forehead to the tank glass.  

“Goodbye, Bodhi,” she whispered.  “And thank you.”  

She paused.

“My father would’ve been so proud of you.”

The words were strange in her mouth. She’d never gotten to say goodbye before.

And then, there was only one thing left to do.

Cassian looked younger in his sleep, as if the past that haunted him had slipped away entirely.  The lines that usually appeared between his eyebrows, the tiredness underneath his eyes-- all erased with the peace of slumber.  His breaths were quiet but steady, and that fact alone made Jyn want to sit quietly and watch him, inhaling and exhaling, for hours.  But it was too late for that.  

She slowly approached his bed, terrified of waking him up.  He was shirtless, the thin sheet of his bed pulled up only to his hips-- most likely to give the medical droids room to check his injuries. Her gaze was drawn to the bacta bandages wrapped around his torso and chest.  Heat blossomed across her cheeks at the skin that was visible to her, though not in shyness.  Jyn hadn’t been innocent enough (or inexperienced enough) to blush at man in a very long time.  Instead, she remembered reluctantly turning from him as they had changed out of their Imperial disguises in the data vault on Scarif.  Her skin had prickled with something she had tried not to think about, given the situation.  She shook her head. 

_ Memories are not going to make this any easier _ , she scolded herself.  

She sat down carefully on the edge of the cot.  There were no words that came to her mind, not that he would’ve heard them to begin with.  She simply looked at him and decided to find peace with something that she had been fighting since the moment she met him, something she would never admit out loud: she could fall in love with Cassian Andor.  

And, if she was being  _ completely  _ honest with herself, she had already started to.

A ghost of a disbelieving laugh huffed through her nostrils as she turned the thought over in her head.  Of course she’d fallen for him, her father’s would-be assassin.  A man rooted in orders and loyalty and duty; the representation of everything she didn’t want in her life.  It made absolutely no sense and yet all the sense in the world.  

She trusted him, implicitly.  It started from the minute he let her keep the blaster she had stolen from his bag and grew from there.  She had been angrier than she would’ve been with anyone else when she learned of his betrayal (or almost-betrayal) on Eadu, and she knew it was because she had let herself trust him and generally like him, against her better judgment.  She had expected to hate him, after that.  But then he had shown up with the other soldiers and those intense eyes of his, and told her that he believed her.  He had given her that smile, the barely-there one that looked like he couldn’t quite believe what either of them were doing.  

“Welcome home,” he had said, invading her personal space like he always did.  And just like that, it was more than just trust, loyalty, and the strange partnership they had cobbled together.  She began to let herself wonder what could be between them, if they actually managed to survive Scarif.  Which led to embarrassing moments on the ship, accidental brushes of their hands, and lingering glances.  Of course, once on Scarif, she was preoccupied with much more important matters.  But she remembered very clearly how close she was to going back for Cassian when he fell from the tower, completely forgetting about the plans clipped to her belt for a moment.  And when he turned out to be alive, she remembered the  _ want  _ that had come with the relief; the desire to put her hands all over him to make sure he was, in fact, really there.

Jyn was filled with the same desire now, but she dared not touch him.  If she gave into it, she would never leave.  And he would die, she knew it.  Her eyes flickered down to his hand, laying still so close to her on the bed.  

_ Home.   _ It had been too long for her to remember what it felt like to have one.  The memories that remained were merely pictures.  Her mother, her father.  The farm.  Then she thought of how lonely she felt falling asleep in a strange room in a strange bed all by herself after everything that had happened, and how she felt before she met Cassian… 

But now?

Slowly and very carefully, Jyn slid her hand across the starched, disinfected sheets and until her fingers slid under his.  She glanced up at his face to make sure he stayed asleep, and breathed a sigh of relief when there was no movement there.  Then she closed her eyes and allowed herself to bask, for just a moment, in how right it felt.  There was no other way to explain it.  Somehow, against all odds, Cassian Andor had become her home.  

But she was all too familiar with what happened when she became attached.  The faces of all the loved ones she had lost flashed through her mind: her mother, her father, Saw, the friends she had made under his charge, Kay, Chirrut, Baze.  

She had somehow endured, losing all of them. But if she allowed herself to find a home with Cassian, and then lost him too?  She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she would not survive that loss.  She had already been given a taste of her world without him, back on Scarif.  It was not a world she was interested in revisiting.

With that knowledge settling deep in her gut, Jyn pulled her hand away from his and stood up.

“Goodbye, Cassian,” she whispered.  “I--”

She paused and looked down at his face.

“Thank you.  For everything.”

Before she could change her mind, she bent down and pressed her lips to his forehead.  Then she turned and walked out of the room, willfully ignoring the moisture that had gathered in the corners of her eyes.  She was halfway out the door when she heard it.

“... Jyn…”

But she closed her eyes and kept walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two kill me. I mean, in the best of ways, but still. MY HEART.
> 
> The timing of the events in "A New Hope" is a LITTLE tricky, but I'm hoping I'm at least somewhat close to correct here.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for coming on this ride with me! There's definitely another chapter of Jyn and Cassian (with a special guest that I'm incredibly nervous about writing) after this, so stay tuned!


	2. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassian wakes up to chaos.

Cassian Andor was not a clamorous man.  

 

A result of both his personality and profession, he was known to be one of the most quiet and reserved members of the rebellion.  This trait proved to be particularly useful in the field, as he was able to observe without being noticed, but it was far less beneficial in his personal life.  Granted, the life of an intelligence officer didn’t provide many opportunities for social frivolities outside of missions, but his naturally reticent manner didn’t help matters.  And so, when he wasn’t on duty, he usually found himself sitting alone in the mess hall or while enjoying a drink at one of the few rebel-friendly cantinas.  He didn’t have friends, he didn’t have family-- he had his commanding officers’ orders and the cause, and that was enough.  It had been that way since he could remember, so naturally, Cassian had thought that he had come to terms with this a long time ago.

 

Then he had reprogrammed an Imperial droid.

 

A week later, the same reprogrammed Imperial droid made him laugh, and laugh _hard_ \-- an extremely rare occurrence.  They had just narrowly escaped an ambush while conducting an undercover investigation of a possible Imperial weapon cache held by one of the Outer Rim’s crime lords.  As they pulled away in their ship amid a barrage of blaster fire, K-2SO had turned to him.

 

“I believe that they may be aware that you’re a rebel spy, Cassian.  You do know that ‘covert’ means _secret_ , don’t you?”

 

A few weeks after that, on Jenoport,  Kay had found him in one of his post-murder catatonic moments.  It didn’t happen often (not by that point, anyway), but the Zeltron boy he had been ordered to kill had been so young, so caring. It was his naiveté that made him a danger, unfortunately, and he had become too much of risk for the Rebellion.  When Kay had brought his large, metal hand to Cassian’s shoulder and offered to undergo a memory wipe to save the captain’s dignity, Cassian had only chuckled.  

 

But he knew then that he had gained a partner.  A friend.  And his quiet existence simply got a bit less lonely.

 

Jyn Erso, however, set his entire existence on _fire_.

 

From the moment he met her, she disproved everything that Cassian thought he knew about people, life and the galaxy.  

 

He found himself breaking all of his rules for her.  He bounded out of the shadows he normally hid in to save her, over and over again, putting her safety ahead of the mission.  He brought civilians into the mission- unpredictable civilians at that.  He disobeyed orders.  He got himself captured by the enemy. He shouted, showed emotion, _felt_ emotion, and said far too much in front of far too many people.

 

She took his flawless record and sterling reputation and broke them into pieces at her feet, without apology.  Then she took all of his silence, obedience, and reservations and crushed them in her tiny, angry hands.

 

He should’ve hated her for it.  

 

But his heart went in the opposite direction.

 

So he let the effect of her wash over him.  He accepted it, embraced it.  Then he followed her to the end of the world.  And when they stood in a quiet elevator together, while war and violence and destruction raged outside and his pulse pounded through the broken bones and bruises he had suffered, there was no doubt in his mind that it was worth it.  Even if they never saw what could’ve been, the fire she ignited in him was the warmest he’d ever been in his entire life.  

 

But somehow, they lived.  

 

And Cassian could still feel her fire burning through him.

 

That was clearly the only explanation why the normally quiet and reserved captain was fighting the urge to pick up the med droid at his bedside, throw it through a window, and then scream his throat raw.

 

If they would only tell him _where Jyn was_.  Panic had coursed through him when he awoke to an empty room-- he must’ve dreamt that she was there with him, her hand in his and her lips on his forehead.  Which meant that he needed to see the real Jyn as soon as possible.  He had to know that she was safe.

 

“I don’t care about your evacuation protocol, do you understand?  I want answers!” he growled.  His voice was pure gravel, and he wondered how long he’d been out.

 

He tried to sit up, intent on walking out of the room and finding one of his commanding officers.  Pain shot through his torso and he gasped at the intensity of it.  The droid beeped a loud warning, and one of the nurses came rushing in.

 

“Captain Andor!  We weren’t sure if you’d wake up before the transport.  There’s a messenger droid waiting for you, but let’s get a quick scan of your injuries and vitals, shall we?” she said briskly.  

 

“Patient is displaying hostility, has accelerated heartbeat, and is willfully aggravating injuries with too much movement.  Sedation suggested,” the med droid reported.  Cassian glared at it while the nurse raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“Captain? Do we have a problem?”

 

“Where are the others that got admitted with me, Jyn Erso and Bodhi Rook?  And what’s all this about an evacuation?” he demanded.  The nurse raised an eyebrow at him, clearly not ruffled by his authoritative tone.  She tapped on the data pad in her hands.

 

“Not that I have to give you this information, but if it’ll calm you down… let’s see.  Sergeant Erso was treated and released-- I have no further information than that.   Ensign Rook, however, is already on his way to the transfer shuttle.  You’ll be seeing him shortly, though he’s still unconscious.  The two of you are being transferred to a different base, by order of Mon Mothma,” the nurse replied.

 

“Why?”

 

“I believe that’s beyond my clearance level, Captain,” the nurse snipped.  “Now if you would just cooperate and let us check your vitals, we can get that messenger droid in here and get you the information you require.  Or, if you prefer, we can sedate you and the messenger will have to wait.”

 

He bit back the string of curses that he wanted to let loose on her, choosing instead to continue glaring at both her and the meddroid.  But he kept his mouth shut and stayed still long enough for them to finish their tests.

 

“All right, Captain Andor.  I can let the messenger droid in now, but I warn you to be mindful of your heart rate-- if it spikes too much, we _will_ sedate you.  Also, a transport vehicle will arrive shortly to take you to the transfer shuttle.  I hope that we won’t have any more trouble,” the nurse said, frowning slightly.  

 

Cassian just continued glaring at her.  A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he realized he was clenching his teeth.  As she opened the door and left, taking the meddroid with her, a metal sphere floated inside, coming to a halt at the end of the bed.

 

“Captain Andor, please confirm password to receive message,” it droned.

 

“Delta-Lima-Alpha one-two-two-nine,” he recited.  

 

“Password accepted.  Incoming holomessage from Senator Mon Mothma.”

 

Cassian sat up straighter, wincing at the movement.  The senator’s face appeared in the air in front of him, tinted slightly blue from the hologram projector.

 

“Welcome back, Captain Andor.  I expect that you are eager to be briefed on the events that have transpired since your return to base, so for now, I’ll skip the pleasantries, accolades, and gratitude that you are owed, and get right down to the matters at hand.  I apologize for not being able to deliver this message in person, but I am unable to leave the command center for reasons you will understand shortly.

 

“I am aware that General Draven disclosed the success of your mission on Scarif upon your arrival at base.  Admiral Raddus did indeed receive your transmission of the Death Star plans aboard the _Profundity_ ; unfortunately, more Imperial forces arrived before they could escape into hyperspace.  The ship was attacked and boarded by Darth Vader and his squadron.  However, the crew were able to get the schematics to Princess Leia Organa, who escaped aboard another vessel.

 

“I regret to inform you that Darth Vader was able to intercept the Princess at Tattooine.  She was taken prisoner, and we believed that the plans were lost to us.  We have since received word that Imperial forces on Tattooine have begun searching for a droid.  We cannot confirm that the droid came from Leia’s ship or may possibly have the plans with it, but we’re keeping our ears on the ground for any additional information.”

 

The senator paused, taking a deep breath.  Cassian noted the change of her demeanor-- her eyes became weary, her tone anguished.  

 

“A few hours ago, the Empire used the full potential of the Death Star to obliterate the planet of Alderaan.  Countless lives were lost, including Bail and Breha Organa.  It would be foolish to see the Empire’s selection of Alderaan as anything but a method of extortion or retribution against the princess.  As a result, we believe that the secret location of this base is in jeopardy, and that we are the intended target of the Death Star’s next attack.

 

“You may have already been notified of the phase one evacuation order that is currently underway.  While we have no proof that Imperial forces are already aware of the location of the base, given the level of destruction seen on Jedha, Scarif, and Alderaan, we thought it prudent to begin preparing for the worst so that the potential loss of life is kept to a minimum.  Phase one of our evacuation protocol includes all occupants of the medbay, regardless of rank.  I expect you to be on the first departing shuttle, along with Ensign Rook.  That’s an order, Captain, in addition to fulfillment of a promise that I made to Sergeant Erso before she left.”

 

_Before… she… LEFT?_

 

Cassian felt like he was falling off the data tower on Scarif all over again.  He clutched at the sides of his bed, trying to find purchase, but his heart continued to plummet.  

 

Meanwhile, Mon Mothma had continued.

 

“... I can only hope that we are able to meet at our new base in the coming days, Captain.  Once there, you will be reporting to General Rieekan.  He will keep you informed of any and all intelligence reports while you recover.  In the meantime, may the Force be with all of us.”

 

The hologram disappeared.

 

“End of message.  Reply or delete?” the messenger droid asked.

 

Cassian stared at the space where Mon Mothma had been, trying to digest the information that he had been given.  There was a part of him that knew that he should be devastated about the loss of the Death Star plans and the demise of Alderaan.  He should also be concerned about the princess and the possible arrival of the Death Star at Yavin.  And he was, he could feel both despair and fear flickering at the back of his mind.  But, quite similar to a siren blaring over a hushed conversation, there was one thing drowning out the rest of the thoughts in his mind.

 

Jyn had left.   _Why_ had she left? Granted, she had made it clear before that she had no loyalty to the Rebellion or the cause, but that was before Scarif.  Before she stood in front of the Senate, pleading for their assistance with the Death Star plans, and then risked her life to find them and transmit them.  Had the failure of her father’s sabotage been too much for her to handle?  If only Cassian had been awake, he--

 

“End of message. Reply or delete?” the droid repeated, an impatient tone creeping into its electronic voice.

 

It reminded him of Kay, and that got his attention.  

 

“I… I need to see Senator Mothma right away. In person,” he replied.

 

“Sender unavailable.  Reply or delete?” the droid buzzed.

 

Cassian cursed quietly.  He looked down at himself, covered in bandages and not much else.  He needed to find his clothes and his blaster.  But he eyed the messenger droid.

 

“Follow-up requested.  Search Yavin security database for Jyn Erso.  Filter results to past 24 hours,” Cassian demanded, while he slowly dragged his aching legs across the bed and swung them down to the floor.

 

There was a long pause while the droid’s lights flickered.

 

“Security rank clearance passed.  Results for Jyn Erso.  Assigned to barrack room number 975 under command from Senator Mothma.  Assigned to RM-09 shuttle 763 under Deck Officer Pl--”

 

“Where was the shuttle going? What time did it leave?” Cassian demanded.

 

“Shuttle destination: Bespin.  Time of departure: 1400 hours.”

 

It was then that Cassian realized that he had no clue what time it was.  But it didn’t matter.  He pushed himself to the edge of the bed, took a deep breath, and pushed himself into a standing position.  His body screamed in protest and his legs almost gave out underneath him, but he locked his knees and pulled the bedsheet he had wrapped himself in tighter around his trembling body.

 

“Final request: Reply or delete?” the messenger droid needled him.  

  
  
“Delete.  Then find me an available ship on deck, ready to leave in five minutes,” Cassian said, gritting his teeth as he slowly made his way to the door of his room.  The messenger droid beeped in acceptance and floated away as he flung the door open, startling the nurse that was sitting at the station just in front of his room.

  
“Captain! You should not be up and walking around yet!” the nurse shrilled.  She got up from the desk and quickly approached him.

 

“Where are my clothes?” he asked, ignoring her.  “I’m discharging myself.”

 

“You cannot be discharged for at least another 24 hours of recovery, you can’t--”

 

“Watch me,” he snapped.

 

He didn’t have time for this.  He’d find another blaster and a change of clothes on his way to the flight deck.  He limped towards the medbay exit, his brow furrowed and his mouth set in pain and determination.

 

“GH-7B, run Protocol Grey!” the nurse called out.  Suddenly, two meddroids came at Cassian, and he cursed-- in his current state, he couldn’t put up much of a fight.  He shoved at one while the other clamped onto his arm.

 

“Heart rate above recommended level, sedation suggested,” one of the droids blared.

 

“Don’t you dare,” Cassian growled, unable to keep the other away.  It clamped onto his other arm.  He struggled against their grasp, ignoring the white hot sparks of pain that were flaring through his injured body.

 

“Sedation approved,” the nurse responded.  “He’ll need it for the transfer, anyway.”

 

He struggled harder when he saw one of the droids produce a needle.  He thought suddenly of Kay, and how none of this would be happening if he had only survived Scarif. Kay would’ve either thrown the droids out of the way or forcibly rewrote their programming to help him.  But without him, Cassian was helplessly, glaringly alone.

 

“No!” Cassian growled.  “Let me talk to General Draven, I cannot be transferred yet.”

 

He felt the needle pierce his skin and he pulled against the restraining arms of the droids.  

 

“Don’t d--”  

 

“Sedative administered,” the droid reported.

 

The drug slammed into him, hard.  He shook his head against the all-consuming wave of fatigue, trying to fight it.  He felt his legs give out underneath him, but the droids still held him by the arms.  He drooped in their grip, feeling the pain in his body fade to a dull ache while he slowly lost control of his limbs.  They started to pull him backwards towards his room.

 

“Stop,” he slurred, trying to keep his eyes open.  “I… have...to…find...”

 

He trailed off as his vision faded.  Before it blacked out completely, he saw a pair of green eyes gazing up at him.

 

_Are you with me?_

* * *

“What do you mean, ‘we can’t leave’?”

 

“Just what I said.  All outgoing flights are delayed and all available pilots are being reassigned, by order of the Senator,” the man replied.

 

Jyn clenched her fists. She was standing on the apron of the flight deck, trying to understand why her flight off of Yavin had been, apparently, cancelled.  She had met up with the pilot of the shuttle to Bespin as planned, only to find a chaotic scene on the tarmac and her ride off of the base being powered down.  Pilots were milling around everywhere, all talking to each other about this latest development and what it meant, and Jyn noticed that they all kept glancing at a large, junky-looking freighter that was parked sloppily among the corvettes, starfighters, and gunships.  She immediately began to panic, feeling the Death Star drawing closer, and her fear made her angry.  She wanted answers, and she wanted them _now_.

 

“Why?” Jyn asked, gritting her teeth.  

 

“Don’t know,” the pilot shrugged.  “Looks like they’re going to brief us soon, but either way, you’re stuck here for now.  Sorry.”  

 

Stuck.  

 

Trapped.  

 

Jyn pushed the fear in her chest down and breathed heavily through her nose, trying to think of an alternative plan.  If only Bodhi was awake, she could commandeer one of the ships, and--

 

Bodhi. Cassian _._  Had their transport been able to get away before all of the flights were grounded?  And what was going on that made Mon Mothma reassign all the pilots?  She made her way through the crowd to a console that stood to the extreme side of the hangar.  Hitting a key, a bunch of strange characters that she didn’t understand appeared on the monitor.  She cursed.

 

“Ahem.”

 

Jyn whirled around the noise and found General Draven behind her, his arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face.

 

“General,” she greeted him.  

 

“Erso,” he replied, frowning.  “I’ve been sent to collect you by the senator.  She needs to meet with you in War Room, immediately.”

 

Jyn then realized that the senator was going back on her agreement to let her leave.  She could only hope that this reversal didn’t also apply to her promise to get Bodhi and Cassian off-planet.

 

“Why?” she asked suspiciously.

 

General Draven was clearly not used to being questioned by lower-ranked soldiers.

 

“It’s an order, not a request, Erso,” he snarled.  Jyn smirked.

 

“I never was very good at taking orders,” she told him.

 

“Yes, I’m aware of that, and your influence seems to be spreading,” the general grumbled.  “Now are you going to come with me or am I going to have to drag you there?”

 

Jyn glared at him, but left the console and stood next to him.  She gestured ahead of them.

 

“Lead the way,” she said.

 

At the very least, her meeting with Mon Mothma would give her some concrete answers.  She’d be able to find out if Cassian and Bodhi were safe, for one thing.  And hopefully, she’d find another way off the base and away from the danger that seemed to be creeping ever nearer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of exposition in this chapter, but I think it was needed. Which means that the character that I was nervous to write has to wait until the NEXT chapter, which will be the final one and full of lots of drama. Dun dun dunnn!!!
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! This foray into fan fiction is pretty new for me, so I definitely appreciate it!


	3. Fight

Jyn hadn’t really known what to expect upon entering the War Room again.  She thought, perhaps, that the Rebel leaders would question her about her father’s message, to try and gain any insight about how to destroy the Death Star.  But that was pointless without the plans for the space station.  They had to know that.  

 

She wasn’t looking forward to discussing her father or his plans, if that was indeed the purpose of the meeting.  The ultimate failure of his vision still weighed heavy in her heart and painful in her chest, threatening to consume her.  But Jyn had learned from Saw long ago that any display of emotion was a weakness (except anger, of course-- that could be used as a motivator), and so she kept her face clear of the grief she felt inside.  The hope that Cassian and Bodhi had escaped the planet helped.  She was thankful that she wouldn’t have to face them when they learned that their sacrifices on Scarif were for nothing.  

 

But her fingers still hadn’t stopped trembling since she learned of Alderaan.  She clenched her fists tightly as she followed General Draven through the hallways, trying to will the vibration to stop.  She knew that, once she got a moment alone-- a moment to breathe-- she was going to fall apart.  It was coming for her just as swiftly and surely as the Death Star itself.  She found herself glancing up at the ceiling, wondering if the outline of it could be seen in the sky yet.  

 

Draven stopped in front of the doors to the War Room.

 

“They’re waiting for you,” he said shortly, making no effort to hide the disapproval in his eyes.

 

Jyn paused, eyeing him suspiciously.  

 

“You’re not coming in?” she asked.

 

“I have...  _ other _ matters to attend to,” the general replied, clearly annoyed with whatever was keeping him away.  

 

“Too bad,” Jyn replied sarcastically, a corner of her mouth quirking up.  She had no reason to play nice with the man who had ordered Cassian to kill her father, especially when it was clear that he didn’t like her, either.  In all honesty, he was lucky she hadn’t wrung his neck the moment they got back from Eadu.

 

She opened the door to the War Room and stepped inside, blinking in the darkness.  It was a stark transition from the bright light of the base’s white hallways.  Her eyes were drawn to the holotable in the center of the room.  The table’s glow illuminated the few people standing around it: Mon Mothma, General Dodonna, and a shorter woman in a white dress that she didn’t recognize.

 

“Sergeant Erso, thank you for joining us,” Mon Mothma called out.

 

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Jyn replied, her tone flat.

 

“And I hope you will understand why, since we don’t have much time,” the senator replied.  “But first, I’d like to introduce you to Princess Leia Organa.”

 

Jyn froze.  Her eyes flicked to the woman at Mon Mothma’s side.  She was beautiful, the light from the holotable casting her in an ethereal glow.  She might as well have been an angel, or perhaps a spirit of the Force.  She was young, younger than Jyn even, but there was nothing about her that portrayed that, except for the lack of lines on her face.  Her eyes were warm but solid and strong, and her tiny stature didn’t do anything to keep her from seeming larger than life.

 

But her presence alone was a miracle. Jyn looked back at the senator, eyes wide and pleading.  She didn’t want to give voice to the tiny flame of hope that had lit within her.  But what did this mean? Where were the plans for the Death Star? And if the princess was here, how much longer could they hide from the Empire?

 

The princess stepped forward before Jyn could voice her questions, smiling warmly at her. “Sergeant Erso.  The senator tells me that it is you the Rebellion has to thank for the retrieval of the Death Star schematics.”

 

The formality of the statement threw Jyn off. Her mind was spinning.

 

“It wasn’t just me,” she replied, uncomfortably.  Faces flashed by in her mind.   _ Chirrut. Baze. Kay. Bodhi. Cassian.   _ She shook her head.  “But… does that mean that you have them?” she blurted out.  

 

_ Please. Tell me that they’re not gone.  _

 

The princess seemed to study her for a moment before Mon Mothma answered the question.

 

“Yes, Jyn. We have the plans.  That’s why I asked you here-- we need your help analyzing them,” the senator said.  But her voice sounded muted to Jyn.  As soon as she had confirmed that the plans had been recovered, the room had gone a bit darker, her legs had gone numb, and her father’s voice had echoed in her mind.

 

_ It must be destroyed. _

 

_ I know. I know. We will. _

 

It wasn’t over.  Suddenly, her knees were buckling underneath her.  The princess grabbed Jyn’s arm.

 

“It’s okay, Jyn, it’s okay. Someone get her a chair!” she ordered,  in a voice that was clearly used to being obeyed.

 

“No, no, I’m all right,” Jyn breathed, her cheeks reddening.  She was stronger than this, dammit.  “I want to help.  What can I do?”

 

The princess didn’t relinquish her hold on her arm, and Jyn found that she didn’t mind-- mainly because she didn’t see sympathy or pity in her, only strength and support.  It reminded her of her mother, and then she remembered, with a bit of a jolt, that Leia had also recently lost her parents.  Her entire planet.  And possibly endured torture at the hands of the Empire.  And yet here she stood, ready to fight, and even somehow able to lend comfort to others.  The woman must’ve been made from steel.  Her resilience was not only reassuring, but contagious, as well.  

 

_ You’re not the only one who lost everything. _

 

But where her father’s voice had brought overwhelming pain and emotion, Cassian’s brought only strength and hope.  Jyn steadied herself and gritted her teeth.  She had to finish her father’s plan.  There was no other option.  

 

General Dodonna stepped forward and pressed a button on the holotable.  A small green model of the Death Star appeared, floating just above the table.  Jyn watched it spin, her heart pounding in her chest.  The plans weren’t lost.  They had done it.  They had been successful after all.  The thought of Cassian blazed through her mind again, and she suddenly wished that she hadn’t sent him away-- she wanted him and Bodhi to share in this moment with her, knowing what they had accomplished together.

 

“We need to know everything your father told you about his plan, Jyn,” Mon Mothma said.  “The location of the weakness needs to be found as soon as possible.  Princess Leia’s rescue ship was tracked, and we believe the Death Star will be in range any moment.”

 

Jyn nodded.  She was ready.  She wanted to fight.

* * *

Cassian couldn’t move.  He felt a flicker of panic before his training kicked in.   _ Stay calm.  Assess the situation. _  He opened his eyes.  He was back in his room in the medbay, laying in his cot.  When he looked down, he saw tight restraints secured at his wrists and ankles.  It also seemed like his bacta pads had been changed, the antiseptic smell more potent than before.

 

“Jyn Erso is a bad influence on you, Captain.”

 

General Draven sat in a chair at the end of his bed, looking thoroughly displeased.  Cassian just watched him, silently.

 

“You’ll be pleased, I’m sure, to know that the transport to the new base left without you, due to your  _ behavior _ .”  Draven said the word as if it tasted bad in his mouth.  “That’s three times you’ve disobeyed orders in the last week, Andor, and with a spotless reputation beforehand.  Care to explain yourself?”

 

_ Not really _ , Cassian thought.

 

“Where is Sergeant Erso?” he asked instead, his voice rough from another bout of unconsciousness.

 

“That’s none of your concern at the moment,” Draven replied.  “I believe I asked you a question.”

 

_ Like hell it’s not.   _ But he knew he wasn’t going to get answers from the general without cooperating.  

 

“I never saw a need to disobey orders before, sir,” he replied, keeping his voice neutral.  What was he supposed to say? 

 

_ Sir, I couldn’t kill Galen Erso because when I looked at him, I saw his daughter’s eyes. _

 

_ Sir, I had to go to Scarif with Sergeant Erso because she lit a fire inside of me than burned brighter than anything I ever felt for the Rebellion before.  She feels like home.  And I trust her. _

 

_ Sir, I had to find Jyn because I need her with me, to know that she’s safe, at all times.  I don’t really understand what that means, but I’d like to continue exploring it.   _

 

A muscle in Draven’s jaw flexed.

 

“If you weren’t one of the best damn intelligence officers we’ve got, I’d have you scrubbing floors for a month,” he grumbled. “As it is you’re grounded anyway, until you recover.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Cassian replied.  They stared at each other for a moment until Draven scowled.

 

“Is Sergeant Erso going to be a problem going forward, Captain?”

 

Cassian didn’t know what to say to that.  So he didn’t say anything.

 

He wasn’t sure what his commanding officer saw in his expression, but Draven sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.  

 

“Erso is in the War Room with the senator and Princess Leia, evaluating the Death Star schematics that you two stole from Scarif-- the princess hid them in a droid that she brought back with her when she got rescued.  But we think her ship was tracked and that the Empire now knows our location.  A battle plan against the Death Star is being formulated now.”

 

Perhaps the impending arrival of the Death Star should’ve been his main concern, but all Cassian could think was:  _ She’s here. She didn’t leave. _

 

“I want in,” he said.  The destruction of the Death Star had been their mission from the beginning.  Both he and Jyn were owed a place in the battle against it.  He also knew that being able to carry out her father’s wishes would give Jyn some peace, finally.  

 

“Andor…” Draven began.

 

“I want  _ in _ ,” Cassian repeated, his eyes flashing.  “And Jyn will want in, too.”

 

“For kriff’s sake, Andor, you can barely walk, let alone fly.  Even without the injuries, you’re not much of a pilot without your droid. I understand your insistence, but you’re grounded.”

 

The reference to Kay felt like a punch to his gut.  Cassian glared at his commanding officer.  He understood  _ nothing _ .

 

Draven stood.

 

“Look, there’s not much of a fleet left, I doubt there’s even a ship left for me to give you.  But I’ll get you released from both your... restraints...  and the medbay.  You deserve at least that much.”

 

Cassian clenched his jaw, but stayed silent.  He’d take what he could get so that he could find Jyn.  Then perhaps they’d find a way to fight, together.

 

“I have to get back.  I’m sorry, Captain.  I know how much you’ve sacrificed for this cause.  If we survive this, you’ve got your pick of the next mission.  You can even take a team with you, if that’s what you want.  But today… you’re on the ground,” the general concluded.  He nodded shortly at Cassian, then turned and left.

 

Soon afterwards, Cassian hobbled out of the medbay.  There had been a bit of an argument with the nurses, who wanted him to use a wheelchair for the next few days, but he had vehemently refused.  His legs were fine, just bruised, it was his ribs and back that were the problem.  And both were still wrapped in bacta bandages.  Still, movement was painful and his steps were slow.  

 

But he pushed on, going as fast as he could.  He had to find Jyn.  With the knowledge that the Death Star was once again approaching, he knew that either they had been granted only a few more hours together, if that.  Or, if their luck hadn’t run out, they’d escape with their lives one more time.

* * *

“You can’t--”

 

“Sergeant…”

 

“No! You can’t expect me to just  _ sit _ here while--”

 

“I’m sorry, Sergeant Erso.  You’re not a pilot, you don’t have any experience using in-flight artillery.  You would be more of a danger than an asset.”

 

Jyn felt sick.  Her heart thudded against her ribs as she stared at Mon Mothma in angered astonishment.  They didn’t actually expect her to sit idly by on their doomed planet while the battle to destroy the Death Star, the battle to fulfill  _ her _ father’s vision, raged on above without her?  Even on Scarif, with the battle station hanging ominously in the sky, she was DOING something.  She was fighting.  And they wanted to take that away from her? After everything that she had done, the lives she had sacrificed, the people she had lost?  No.  She wasn’t having it.

 

They had found the weakness that her father had built into the reactor module, and it was exactly how he had explained it.  One shot, one perfect shot, to a small thermal exhaust port and the entire space station would explode.  It wasn’t going to be easy.  The shot would be difficult for the most experienced pilot.

 

But they had a shot.  One shot to save them all.

 

General Dodonna and the princess had departed to brief the fleet and prepare them for battle.  They had very little time-- while they had been studying the schematics, confirmation was received that the Death Star was headed in their direction.  With the memories of Jedha and Scarif still fresh in her mind, Jyn had turned to Mon Mothma with fire in eyes and told her that she wanted to fight.  

  
And the senator was denying her that chance.

 

The look that Jyn was currently giving her made no pretenses about the intensity of her anger and feelings of betrayal.

 

“You  _ brought _ me here to help your cause.  Y-you  _ used _ me to get to Saw, to get to my father.   _ You _ threw me into this.  You don’t have the right to decide when I get to fight and when I don’t,” Jyn snarled at the older woman.  She was furious: at her, at the Rebellion, at the Empire, at the whole stupid galaxy for making her care about people and causes all over again when she had finally escaped all of it.  Clearly, she was not meant to survive either life, but at least as Lianna Halik, she was strong and impenetrable.  She was a machine.  Jyn Erso was full of feelings and heartache and anger and sadness and memories.  She hated it.

 

“This will probably seem ungenuine to you, Jyn, but I am sorry for what we-- the rebellion-- did to you.  I am.  But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re not--”

 

“YOU KILLED MY FATHER!” Jyn roared, her voice breaking at the end.  The pain of it spread through her chest and she turned to the holotable to grip the edges of it.  The only noise she could hear in the room was her own heavy breathing as she struggled to smother the emotions that were raging inside of her.  She had told herself, back before Scarif, that she had to set aside her anger at the Rebellion for taking her father from her, if only to get them to go to Scarif.  But, of course, they had denied her even that… until she, and the rest of “Rogue One”, put matters into her own hands. And now they denied her the chance to help finish it all.

  
Clearly, she find a way around the Rebellion again.  Jyn wanted to give her life in the fight to destroy the Death Star, and she’d find a way to do it.  

 

She stood up straight and looked at Mon Mothma, who had stayed silent..  The senator met her gaze head-on, and Jyn could almost respect her for that.  She wasn’t denying the fact that the Rebellion had murdered her father.  But she also wasn’t admitting that it was a mistake.

 

“I’m sorry, Jyn.  There’s nothing I can do for you.  May the Force be with you-- with all of us,” the older woman said softly.  Jyn, recognizing a dismissal, nodded once and departed.  She’d find another way.

 

When she reached the flight deck, it was a flurry of pilots, droids, movement, and preparation.  Spirits seemed to be high, but the conversations that Jyn caught bits of centered around the near-impossibility of the shot that would take down the Empire’s weapon.  

 

“Two meters! Even the skill shots in advanced training were bigger than that!”

 

“Better check your targeting system is up and running smoothly before take-off, you’ll need it.”

 

“The Force better be kriffin’ with us, we’ll need it!”

 

Jyn clenched her teeth and kept moving, eyes roving the fleet for a fighter big enough to fit a passenger.  Hearing the complaints about the weakness her father worked so hard to create and conceal grated at her.  Each word felt like an insult against him and his memory.  If she wasn’t so desperate to find a pilot to take her on, she might’ve stopped and decked one of them, just to relieve some tension.  

 

But then, she noticed the large, dingy freighter that she had seen earlier.  A thin, handsome man and a Wookiee were quickly loading boxes onto it, arguing most of the time.  Curiously, the man wasn’t wearing the Rebellion flight suit like everyone else on the deck.  He was in normal clothes, and Corellian spacer vest.  Nevertheless, Jyn made her way over to them.  She had no time to waste.

 

The Wookiee noticed her purposeful march towards them and warbled warily to the man.  He looked up at Jyn and frowned.

 

“You’re not another princess, are you?” he asked Jyn, looking her up and down.

 

“No,” Jyn replied, confused.  “I’m looking for a ride. I want to fight.”

 

“A  _ ride _ ?” the man repeated.  He turned to the Wookiee.  “Chewie, did we become a transport service in the last week without me noticing or what?” 

 

His furry sidekick warbled again.

 

“Look.  I don’t know how to fly, but I need to be up there. Please. Take me with you,” Jyn pleaded.  

 

“I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but Chewie and I aren’t headed into battle.  We’re getting out of here before this place turns into target practice for the Empire,” the man replied.

 

Jyn was speechless.  She took a step closer to the man, ignoring the soft growl that the Wookiee let out.

 

“What do you mean, you’re not going to battle?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous.  

 

“This ain’t my war, sister,” the man answered.  “I’ve got better things to do than to stick around here and have my choobies blasted off by Vader and his new toy.”

 

_ ‘Better things’?!   _ Jyn felt the rage that had been simmering in her veins spike at his words.  She had known men like him before, and she knew just how to deal with him.  She lunged forward and grabbed the man’s collar, yanking him down to her level and glaring at him viciously.  The Wookiee gave out a loud and angry roar.

 

“My father and my friends gave their lives so that we might have a chance to defeat this, you worthless sack of rancor dung,” Jyn hissed.  “The Empire destroyed whole cities, whole planets, thousands of innocent people with their ‘new toy’, and you have ‘better things to do’?  You coward.  I know-- _ knew _ \-- droids with more guts than you.”

 

“Now, listen, I--”

 

“No, you listen to me, you low-life, druk-brained sculag.  You’re going to take me into that battle with the rest of the fleet, or I’m going to take your precious ‘choobies’ and--” 

 

The Wookiee let out an almighty roar, grabbing Jyn and pulled her off of the man, sending her flying through air.  She landed on the hard tarmac, several feet away.  Some of the other pilots glanced her way as they still prepared to launch, looking concerned.  She ignored them all and stood up, wincing slightly at the bruises that were already forming.  With the quick jerk, she pulled out her batons and grasped them in her still-bandaged hands.  Part of her knew that she was being rash and acting out on emotions, and most likely, she’d regret picking a fight with a Wookiee, but she was beyond caring.  She gritted her teeth and stepped back towards the man, murder in her eyes.

 

“Jyn!”

 

The voice stopped her, cold.  All of her rage was doused, instantly, by the icy wave of dread and despair that washed over her.

 

_ No.  _ _ It can’t be. _

 

She slowly turned.  

  
“Cassian,” she breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, um... this got away from me. Whoops! So I had to add another chapter to the fic, but I PROMISE the next one is the last one. 
> 
> A few things about this chapter: I know that it seems like Bodhi conveniently disappears from the plot, but there's a reason for that. I'm planning on writing a separate piece about him, so you'll find out the deal with him eventually. Also, I was TERRIFIED writing Leia, because she is, like, everything. It felt like blasphemy! So I kept her parts minimal because I didn't want to disrespect her. *blushes* Another thing: the part where Mon Mothma apologizes to Jyn for what they've done to her is something that happens in the novelization, and I liked the idea of it so much that I had to include it here, too (in my own words, obviously). 
> 
> Finally, Jyn is far more emotional in this than she ever was in the movie, but I did that on purpose because she has been through a HELL of a lot in a very short span of time if you add the events of "Rogue One" to my alternate universe. She's strong, but she's also beginning to crack from the pressure, you know?
> 
> Anyway, Jyn and Cassian are FINALLY reunited in the last chapter. Prepare for feels (if I can provoke that, at least!).
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and commenting and sending me kudos! It is SUPER appreciated!


	4. Burn

Cassian Andor, pale and hunched with pain, was a vision.  

 

Again.

 

Jyn took a step towards him before she was able to reel in the ever-present desire to put her hands on him, just to make sure that he was real and alive and truly there with her.  

 

She still wasn’t used to people sticking around when things got bad.

 

But as she drank in the sight of him, Jyn came to the realization that Lianna Halik, Kestrel Dawn, and Tanith Pontha could never truly exist again, at least not while Cassian was in her life.  The careful control of her emotions that had been instilled in her from the moment that Saw pulled her up out of the hidden bunker on Lah’mu disintegrated in his presence.  He effortlessly melted the cold, detached demeanor that she had crafted from years of loss, loneliness, and isolation.  But more than anything else, he made her  _ care _ .  He made her want to stop running and find a place to exist in his orbit; a planet thriving in the warmth of his sunlight.

 

She had always prided herself on her ability to survive without depending on anyone else to do so.  Jyn certainly didn’t need Cassian, but the intensity of how much she  _ wanted _ him both enthralled and panicked her.  And while she couldn’t deny the desire that existed within it, there was also a far simpler truth to her feelings: she wanted him around, in any aspect.  Just that admission alone was unfamiliar; she hadn’t trusted or kept anybody in her life long enough to want to them to stay in a very long time.  

 

But the soaring feeling that usually accompanied his presence came with a new, sinking despair as he stood before her on the flight deck.  He wasn’t supposed to be on Yavin anymore!  He was supposed to be far away from the looming destruction of the Death Star, safe on another base.  And the joy she felt upon seeing him fled as she realized that he was just as doomed as she was.  

 

Had they survived Scarif only to perish on Yavin?

 

No.  Not now.  She wouldn’t allow it.

 

The strength of her defiance was powerful enough to make her turn from him, away from her questions, and start back towards the freighter pilot and the Wookiee.  She heard Cassian call her name, but she set her jaw against the desire to return to him.  The Wookiee warbled angrily as she approached again, and the pilot looked up and glared. 

 

“What part of ‘angry Wookiees are violent and dangerous’ didn’t you understand?” he snapped.

 

Jyn opened her mouth to respond when she felt a warm fingers wrap around her wrist, the grip strong yet gentle at the same time.  She whirled around to find Cassian’s dark eyes boring into hers.  How he had caught up with her in his state, she had no idea.

 

“What are you doing?” he demanded, and she felt his thumb skid across the bandages still wrapped around her hands.  Around them, engines started firing up, ready for take-off.  

 

“Getting us out of here and into battle,” she replied, yelling over the noise and pulling against him.  They were running out of time.  The freighter pilot and the Wookiee were eyeing them while walking back to their ship.  They’d be lifting off any moment.

 

But Cassian took a long moment to look around them at the ships about to depart the base.  Then he stared down their hands.  His thumb ran across her bandages again.  Then he pressed his hand softly against his torso.  When his eyes returned to hers, something had settled there.

 

“Jyn, let them go,” he said, softly.

 

She ripped her hand out of his grasp, her breath whooshing out of her in one shocked breath.

 

“What are you  _ talking _ about?” she asked incredulously.  “This is our fight.  My father’s fight.  We have to see it through!  We have to help them defeat it!”

 

“How do you suppose we do that?  Look at your hands,” he replied, gesturing at them.  “And I can barely stand, let alone pilot a plane.”

 

“You don’t have to, just help me with that freighter pilot--”

 

“You mean Han Solo?” Cassian chuckled darkly.  “I’ve met him before.  He’s not going anywhere near a battle, unless there’s money to be made off of it.  Even if we  _ were _ able to get on his ship, then what?  We’re no match for a Wookiee.”

 

“Then we’ll find another ship!  I can help you pilot it and… and...” she trailed off.

 

“And what?  Get shot down by TIE fighters? Get in the way of the other pilots?  No, Jyn.  This is too important,” he told her.

 

Jyn couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  The captain of rebel intelligence, the man who had fought for the rebellion since he was a child, who was clearly willing to do whatever it took to defeat the Empire, no matter how morally grey the deed was, was giving up?  Had Scarif weakened him that much?  Her dismay must have been plain on her face, because he took a step towards her.

 

“I know you want to fight.  I do too.  I  _ promise _ I do.  But we’re no use to them right now,” he said.

She shook her head, taking a step away from him.  Then she heard the unmistakable sound of a ramp being closed nearby.  She whirled around and saw the door of the freighter slowly ascending up into its hatch.  

 

“NO!” she yelled.  She ran towards the ship, ignoring Cassian as he called out to her.  The fighters around them began pulling away, engines roaring.  She fought against the wind the departing vessels created, squinting as her hair whipped around her face.  The freighter lifted off the ground and spun around.  

 

“Wait!” Jyn cried, her voice lost in the noise.  She was getting dangerously close to the drive units, but she couldn’t stop.  She  _ had _ to get on that ship.  

 

Suddenly, she was yanked back by her arm.  She fought desperately against him, but Cassian pulled her tightly to his chest, and she felt his fingers weave into her hair, cradling her head against his shoulder.  The freighter suddenly gave a large blast and shot away from the flight deck.  The force of the wind would’ve sent her tumbling if she hadn’t been anchored by him.  But as the deck quieted around them, she still struggled against his hold.  

 

“No! Let me go! I have to find a ship!  I have to--”

 

“They’re gone, Jyn.”

 

“NO! I have to be there.  I want to fight! My father--”

 

“I know.”

 

“This was our fight.  It was my--”

 

“I know, Jyn.  Listen to me.  Listen!” Cassian pulled away just far enough to grasp her by shoulders.  He dipped his head to look in her eyes.  “Most of the pilots are going to die today. You saw the plans, you know how difficult it’s going to be.  The odds are already against us, and this is the  _ only _ chance we have to destroy it.  We can’t risk doing anything that could get in the way of that, do you understand?  If we weren’t injured… if we had Bodhi, or K, we could maybe figure something out but it’s just us, Jyn.  It’s not easy for me, either, but… we have to stay here.”

 

She pulled herself out of his grasp and stumbled away from him, absently wiping at the moisture in her eyes.  The deck was empty, save a few droids and maintenance workers.  It was too late.  

 

Jyn could feel herself coming apart at the seams.  Unable to fight, unable to leave, unable to save Cassian, unable to do anything but watch the approach of the Death Star and count the seconds until the blast came that would kill them all.  Death had been chasing her from the moment the Empire came for her father.  She had just barely escaped it so many times-- Wobani, Jedha, Eadu, Scarif-- but her luck had finally run out, and now she was left to be merely spectator of her own demise.  It was a cruel punishment for life to carry out on her, especially since she felt like she had only truly began living it within the past couple of weeks.  She found herself wishing that she had never made it off Scarif.  What was the point of giving her these past few days on Yavin, when she could’ve died fighting, giving her life to the cause like Baze and Chirrut?  

 

Chirrut.  She remembered him grasping her hand as they left Eadu.  She had been close to falling apart then, too, but the firm pressure of his fingers on her skin had anchored her enough to let the heat of her anger keep her melded together.  She had barely known him, but had felt strangely connected to him from the moment he called out to her on Jedha.  

 

_ The strongest stars have hearts of kyber. _

 

Her hand involuntarily rose and sought out the kyber crystal she wore around her neck.  Her mother’s necklace.  “Trust the Force,” Lyra had told her, when she gave it to her, just before she died trying to protect her family.  

 

Her family.

 

_ Good luck, little sister.   _ The last thing that Baze had said to her.  She remembered the warmth that filled her chest at his words.

 

_ Your behavior, Jyn Erso, is continually unexpected.   _ In her mind, Kay’s metal fingers closed slowly around her blaster.

 

Then she was remembering Bodhi, his burnt and broken body trembling in the pilot’s seat as they escaped Scarif. She had gently squeezed his shoulder before he took them into hyperspace, and he had glanced up at her, his eyes both hopeful and afraid.

 

She had saved him.  He would make it, their brave pilot.

 

And with that thought, she finally understood.  These past few days on Yavin  _ had _ meant something: Bodhi would live.  He would serve as the best reminder of how just one person, with a little bit of hope and bravery, could save the entire galaxy.  He would fight to finish what her father had started.  There was no one better to lead the charge, though she knew Bodhi himself would think otherwise.  

 

One fighter with a sharp stick and nothing left to lose.

 

And Jyn would die knowing that she was able to protect what was left of her family one last time. 

 

She pulled herself out of her thoughts and looked back at Cassian, who was watching her with a softness in his eyes that threatened to take her breath away.  In all of the fear and loss that had settled into her bones in the past few days, she had failed to see what had been given to her, what she had hoped for with all of her heart in the elevator on Scarif:

 

More time.

 

She slowly extended her hand to Cassian.  All of her instincts fought against her, knowing that she was going to lose him, and soon.  But if she had learned anything since she was broken out of prison, it was to appreciate the moments she was given, and not drown in the fear of what could be taken away.  

 

He took her hand, his fingers warm and calloused.  She pulled him to her, her heart lurching when he winced and pressed a hand to his ribs.  He almost fell into her, but she slid her arm around his waist to support him.  His arm went around her shoulders, and he chuckled.  

 

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he said.  Jyn felt a genuine smile stretch across her face.  She looked up at him, only to be greeted with the blazing, dark eyes she had been trying to get out of her mind since their return from Scarif.  But now, she refused to look away, wanting them scorched into her.  

 

“They told me you left,” he told her, after a moment.

 

“I almost did,” she admitted.

 

He studied her face carefully, as if he was doing some memorization of his own.  

 

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

 

The words felt branded into her heart as it stuttered in her chest.

 

“Me too,” she whispered back.  

 

_ Welcome home. _

 

She let the moment settle into her bones before gently nudging him.  Then they slowly made their way down to the War Room.

 

It was chaos.  Princess Leia, Mon Mothma, General Dodonna, General Draven, and a worrisome golden droid were gathered around the holotable, watching and listening to the battle above.  Engineers worked around them, talking to the larger ships in the rebellion and tracking the approach of the Death Star.  No one seemed to even notice when Jyn and Cassian arrived, too fixed on the battle.  So the two of them hung back in the shadows.

 

It took about five minutes until Jyn felt suffocated, her helpless spectation amplified by the sound of a battle that was clearly not going well.  She had to get out of there.  Even Cassian seemed to have grown antsy, tapping his fingers on his bicep and mumbling to himself.

 

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.  She turned to him in the darkness.  His expression was grim, and she remembered what he said to her earlier: this was hard for  _ him _ , too.

 

“Can you walk?” she asked him.  Pausing for a moment, Cassian looked towards the holotable.  He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing, but eventually he nodded.  Her arm went around his waist again, while his returned to her shoulders.  But this time, Jyn reached her free hand up to curl around his, where rested on her.  When she felt his fingers bend to meet hers in return, his thumb caressing the tops of them, her stomach fluttered.

  
“Come on,” she said, and with her guiding them, they hobbled slowly through the near-empty base, back to the hangar.  She led them across the floor to the entrance out onto the planet.  Once they stepped beyond the cover of the temple, they both looked up at Yavin’s blue sky, searching for what they expected to see.

 

And there it was: the distant white outline of the Death Star, ominous and deadly.  But Jyn didn’t look at it for long.  Her gaze drifted back to Cassian, studying the stretch of his neck, the stubble along his jaw.  She knew that both of them were probably expected back in the War Room, if they even made it that far before the world ended.  But she couldn’t imagine spending her last moments there-- hidden under the ground, unable to see the green glow of the Death Star’s blast as it came for them.  She would die listening to pilots fall above them, keeping a “professional distance” from Cassian in the presence of his superiors.  

 

No.  She didn’t want to hide from the Death Star anymore, nor run from the destruction it brought.  She wanted to stare her death in the face when it arrived, ready and waiting for it.  And she wanted Cassian at her side.  If he wanted to be.

 

“What is it?”  he asked.  He was watching her again.

 

“I… I want to stay out here,” she told him.   _ With you.   _ Her grip on his waist tightened slightly.

 

The look he gave her in return was a familiar one.  It was the same one he had given her when they had lifted off from the base, on the way to Scarif; the same one she had seen when he shot one of Saw’s rebels to save her. It was a mixture of “I’m with you” and “I can’t believe I’m doing this”-- a look that she believed might be reserved only for her.  No one had ever looked at her that way before.

 

But all he said was, “Okay.”  And he brought her over to the bottom of one of the crumbling stone staircases that ascended the side of the temple.  They climbed up onto the bottom step and sat close to each other, their knees touching.  Above them, the  moon-like outline of the Empire’s weapon hung in the air, and they waited for the flash of green that would take their lives.

 

Before Jyn could talk herself out of it, she reached out and put her hand over Cassian’s, where it lay on the stone next to her.  He responded immediately, intertwining his fingers with hers.

 

“Your father would have been proud of you, Jyn,” he said softly.  She squeezed his hand and felt tears come to her eyes.  She hoped he was right.  The words also reminded her own, to Bodhi-- she hoped he was safe, wherever he was.  

 

Cassian reached over and hesitantly stroked his thumb over her cheekbone, wiping away a tear.  The action stilled them immediately-- it was the most intimate gesture either of them had ever experienced.  But with the Death Star hanging over them, insecurities or apprehensions had to be put aside.  So with her heart pounding in her chest, she leaned into his touch. His fingers trembled against her cheek as his hand moved to cup her face, more gently than she thought possible.  

 

In another world with an endless amount of time between them, she might’ve teased him playfully about it.  But in their world, it just made her ache.  She covered his hand with her own and felt more tears fall.  

 

“Cassian,” she breathed, her lungs hitching with suppressed sobs.  

 

He pulled her into his arms, and she relished in the feeling of his hands sliding up her back, one of them moving further up to gently grasp the collar of her jacket.  This was different than earlier, where he had taken her in his arms to merely restrain and protect her.  No, this one burned with longing and emotion, and the ache in her chest expanded at the knowledge that she wouldn’t get to have this with him again.  But it was because of that knowledge that she slid her arms around his neck, splaying her fingers across his back before gripping his shirt between her fingers.  The stubble on his cheeks scratched against the side of her face and her neck as he inclined his head into her, pressing his lips against her shoulder. 

 

Jyn closed her eyes and lost herself in his embrace, willing herself to forget the war, forget the Rebellion, forget the Death Star and Scarif and everything but the warmth of his touch.  If this was to be her last memory, she didn’t want to taint it with the panic of their impending doom.  She wanted her world to contain only her and Cassian, and damn the rest of it.  But when she opened her eyes again, needing one last glimpse of him, green light flashed in the sky above them.

 

The Death Star.

 

And suddenly she was in the elevator on Scarif all over again, begging for the Force to grant her more time with him.  It wasn’t enough.  It would never be enough.

 

Her tears were falling freely now and he gripped her tighter, whispering her name into her hair.  

 

She pulled away to look at him-- his eyes were the last thing that she wanted to see-- and the green light grew brighter.  But when she saw the wetness on his lashes, she made one final decision.  

 

Jyn closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his.

 

She heard his sharp intake of breath, felt his fingers clutch at her for one brief second, then relax.  The hand at the back of her neck slid higher and he wove his fingers into her hair, sending shivers down her spine.  The other hand pressed her tighter to him, fingers spread to feel as much of her as possible.  Then he tilted his head and deepened the kiss, and she finally did forget the world around them, existing only in the feel of his lips, the pound of her heart, and the desire burning through her veins.

 

That is, until the sky exploded.

 

Jyn and Cassian clutched each other tighter at the colossal blast that echoed through the atmosphere, bracing themselves for an impact that they knew they would not survive.  

 

But none came.

 

His lips left hers and her eyes shot open, immediately searching the sky for fire or green lightning, then looking around them for the wave of destruction that they had seen on Jedha.  

 

But all was quiet, save for a bright spot in the sky where the outline of the Death Star had been.

 

Then screams erupted from the hangar.  They scrambled off the step and Cassian pulled out his blaster, keeping her behind him.  But almost immediately, they realized that the screams were actually cheering.  People came streaming out of the temple, whooping and laughing and crying with joy.  Cassian put his blaster back in its holster and turned to her.  His eyes were brighter than she had ever seen them (and his lips were pink and swollen, which made her flush).

 

But she was afraid to hope.  

 

“Jyn,” Cassian said, a grin breaking onto his face (a sight that, she suddenly realized, she wanted to see happen over and over and over again).  “It’s gone.”

 

She looked up at the sky again, feeling punchdrunk with knowledge that she couldn’t comprehend.  But sure enough, the outline of the Death Star and the bright light that had enveloped it were both gone.  They had destroyed it.  Her father’s vision was complete.

 

_ You did it, Papa.  You did it. _

 

She felt Cassian slip his hand into hers.  Her eyes swept across the beautiful, empty sky once more before they landing on him.  He stepped closer to her, letting go of her hand to place his hands gingerly on her waist.  She craned her head up to hold his gaze, a smile a playing at her lips.  

 

“Well,” she said.  “Now what?”

 

**_The End_ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was difficult. In having them survive Scarif, I took away their beautiful moment on the beach. But I felt like Jyn and Cassian would ALWAYS have that sort of moment, no matter what alternate universe they existed in, so I turned it into somewhat of a re-creation of it, or at least I tried to. It doesn't have the impact that the beach scene does, obviously, because there's a happy ending here, but I tried to keep a lot of the original elements. But I'm not one of those people who can make their prose sound like poetry, and I feel like that weakness shows most while writing complete MUSH, you know? (I know, more excuses that basically serve as an apology for not being the writer I WANT to be!)
> 
> Anyway, it's over! Thanks so much for reading and sticking through this with me-- it's greatly appreciated! Feel free to drop me a comment (I will respond eventually, promise!), if you're so inclined.
> 
> I have an idea for a Bodhi-centric epilogue for the series, so that may show up eventually. In the meantime, may the Force be with you! ; )


End file.
